The Adventures of Kinky Reggae: A Vagabond for Beauty

I am an obsessive planner. Sia looked at me like I was mentally ill when I showed her my Montana binder, organized according to national forest. It contains a calendar with an activity for each day. The problem is, when I'm vagabonding, I have trouble sticking to the plan. Because isn't that kind of the point? To be a free spirit and explore? I didn't plan to end up in The Swell, but here I am, never wanting to leave. There is SO much to see. This morning I hiked in Crack Canyon, a lovely canyon with three sections of narrows. There was only one downclimb that was slightly difficult, and I was super excited because I didn't need the handline going down OR up it. I encountered two other hikers in this canyon. One stopped to chat with me for a few minutes. He introduced himself and said that people call him "Coyote." I felt like the biggest dork telling him my name is Erin. I rolled my eyes when Bernie told me I needed a road name, but perhaps he was ri

The past two days have not gone according to plan, and that's okay. Yesterday was a rough day. After the previous night's rain, the morning was spent drying out our stuff, not running a canyon. I talked everyone into going to see a waterfall on their way out of town. It was supposed to be a 15 minute walk down a creek. 30 minutes later, everyone else decided they were over it. We said goodbye right there in the water, and I continued on alone. The waterfall was less than impressive. I wandered around for a while and explored Mount Hillers, then camped at Little Egypt again. I was super excited to go hike Mount Ellen this morning. Mount Ellen is the highest point in the Henry Mountains, which are so remote, they were the last mountain range in the Lower 48 to be mapped. I've never heard of anyone hiking up there, so I thought it would be fun to do that. The drive up the mountain was beautiful; everything was so lush and green. It sounded like an easy hike- park at Bull

Jason got up at the crack of dawn the next day to drive into Hanksville to check the weather report. (Cell phone reception is scarce in southern Utah.) He came back with bad news, although we'd already guessed by looking at the sky: more rain. But this time we were prepared with a Plan B, so we headed to Hogwarts- a short, easy canyon close to the road. The approach was fun, scenic, and relatively easy (that's what I love about the North Wash canyons), and the canyon was gorgeous. Jason sat back and let us do all the rope work, so I enjoyed setting up rappels and getting more familiar with rope management. Sia went first on each rappel and proved yet again what a competent badass she is. Sia is awesome because she is a little clumsy and she talks in her dogs' voices and calls herself Frances when she does something stupid. And yet, when stuff gets real, she knows what to do. If something bad happens, she's someone I want around. Although it was her first canyon, Laur

The trip began with Laura and I driving up to Utah after work on Friday. We drove through the thick smoke of the Slide Fire near Flagstaff, and it looked eerie and surreal... Almost apocalyptic. Then we drove through a dazzling lightning storm on the way to Kayenta. Things were off to a great start. We made camp at Goosenecks State Park in Utah, which is where the San Juan river bends and bends and bends. It was a pretty sweet sight to wake up to. Sia and Jason met us there, and we continued to North Wash, stopping for pictures on the Moki Dugway and Colorado River. (Unfortunately, none of these pictures will be posted until a later date since they're all on Jason's camera.) By the time we stopped at the Hog Springs rest area, I was ready to be in a canyon. However, rain clouds were building, and Jason felt that it would be unsafe. Normally, I appreciate how safety conscious he is. But I was not having a good day. So I started an argument. And apparently it was bad enough

The fact that I'd never been backpacking was a secret source of shame that I carried with me for a long time. People were always surprised when I'd admit to being just a dayhiker. Apparently I give the impression of being outdoorsy, but honestly, I'm not. I don't like to be dirty. Sleeping bags make me feel like I'm in a straight jacket. I hate how much work camping is, which is why I don't cook (besides boiling water or making s'mores) or set up a tent. I sleep in my car and can't stand the thought of my dirty feet touching my clean sheets, which is why I go through tons of wet wipes. I straighten my hair and put on makeup every morning. I am not outdoorsy. Backpacking did not sound like fun to me, and the only good reason I could see for doing it would be to get to far away places you could only see on foot. Glacier is the perfect example of that. When you look at the maps, you realize that you can only drive to a small portion of the park; most of

Sunday can be summed up in the text I sent to Jason on Monday: "Thanks for being my friend even when I'm freaking out about a rappel or throwing up or yelling at you about The Secret." (This was preceded by the Pinterest quote below.) We packed a cooler and headed to a beautiful 180 foot waterfall, which we rappelled. Jason went first, and I proceeded to freak out at the top. (It's scary to be last one down! There's no one there to check and make sure you're clipped in correctly! I'd much rather be first!) But I imagined Kristin saying, "Suck it up, Buttercup," and then I saw a dad and his two sons hiking up to the waterfall and thought, "I can't wimp out now," so I lowered myself over the edge and sang "Let It Go," pausing occasionally to curse when my hair kept getting stuck in my rappel device. I'm sure I put on quite a show. I have a feeling I'm one of the only people who can still manage to look like a

My new friend Laura and I wanted to go for a hike, so we asked Jason for a recommendation. "Devil's Chasm" was his immediate response, so we headed out the the beautiful Sierra Anchas (which are also home to Parker, The Jug, and Waterslides). It's only 2 miles to the Indian ruins, but it felt like one of the longest hikes of my life. The trail follows a creek up the canyon, and by up I mean almost 2,000 feet in less than 2 miles. I was struggling and cursing Jason all the way up. Finally, we reached the turn off for the ruins. At this point, the trail leaves the canyon floor and heads almost straight up a cliff. The crazy thing is that, at this point, you still can't see the ruins. Laura and I chose different approaches to this nearly vertical, loose dirt trail. She got angry and just started running up it, which resulted in a one-step-forward, two-steps-back type of progress. I would take a step, then pause and plan the placement of my next step, carefully st